Revenants of the Past- Book Two of Selective Breeding

Part Seventeen

Dr Swerl carried for him for a while. Checking on his burns getting him backup and moving. Outside of the few conversations she allowed with him, most of her actions around him was very robotic. Making Tyklyn feel even more alone than he ever felt before.

The days and nights were blurred together, their was no way to tell time or keep track.

Eventually after sometime after most of the damages were now just scares that marked his body. He asked with the little bit of her langauge he knew.

"My people, what happened?" he struggled to find the right words to form the sentence but he believe he managed to get the point across fairly well.

Swerl looked him over, then grabbed his pad. Scrolling through the imagines until she got to the one that meant family, then back up to the top and found the skull.

Tyklyn eyes felt the sting of the information before his mind fully comprehended what she said. The tears that formed were slowly to start, causing pain to build up as the pressure again his nasal and eye area grew until it went down and built up in his throat.

His nose started running, then followed his tears, his throat tighten and tighten until he thought it was going to close up and suffocate him.

Tyklyn didn't shake but set there holding the pad, crying for the people he had spent his life with. He again was left alone as Swerl just left the room. From that day forward Tyklyn became quite accustomed to the cold feeling of the empty loneliness. He would figure out in the long uncounted weeks....or was it months, that if he simply just did not think, than he would not feel, and he would not ache.

Eventually he finally was brought out of that medial room. He was pulled in front of a large group of people. Some looked like Rindosas some did not. The strangeness of the group shock Tyklyn he never new people could so different.

Some with scales, some with no noses, some tall and slender. The only stranger he ever saw in his life was Geildeto, and there was many who looked like him here too.

That day changed things for him.

He was given over to one of the people in the dark black uniforms that he remembered pulled him from the fire. They got him into clothes that looked similar. Then he was put into training. Very hard, rigorous training. He spent his days pushed until his body broke, his evening having information nearly beat into his head. Until he could speak three languages that he had never heard before a day in his life. His nights he spent wishing that he could cry but his body was so worn that he simply didn't have the strength too.

"Now that you are more up to par." a Laoq spoke to him.

He was pulled in front of the circle of people again. This time he knew their words.

"Can you tell us your name?" it continued.

He found his voice, "I am Tyklyn."

"Good. Now, tell us what you remember of the Surovel Geildeto?"

Tyklyn then spent time day after day, or what he could only assume was days, coming back infront of these people telling them more and more about his life in the quadrant, about his family, about Geildeto, everything including how it ended.

The leader of the black uniforms soon then took him under his wing. Making sure he was adjusting after everything. He was the one that taught Tyklyn to fight, to shoot, how to deceive people, to hide, to lie.

"I am sure no one has told you." he remembered the leader said one day, when his hair was turning from the black to white. "It was Geildeto that killed the rest of them. They never wanted to tell you, I hope you know this information comes in good faith. I won't be around much longer."

He died two missions later, the organisation blamed his age for his fall.

Tyklyn watched as people around him started to change like the seasons. While he still looked like the boy that got caught in the fire. Just with lighter coloured scars now.

"We need you for a mission, we think your far beyond ready."

Another change in his life. When ___ put him on the frontlines. He rose to the top, heading off as a skill assignment. Going in and pulling people out of the dark trades, heading off trade deals, and catching people who smuggled.

He went through more than a dozen groups, all turning grey-haired and wrinkled over the time. Though he was never allowed a clock in his room, and the days were banned from him. His working partners where punished if they told him about years, months.

Tyklyn was suspended in time.

"Mom." he remembered walking into the mission room, to get his next assignment. Like a ghost to his memories. He saw the pictures of his mother plastered up on the screen. The long suspended time of cold isolation caught up to him. He felt all the emotions he never dealt with come crashing into him like a world ending asteroid.

"I thought she was dead."

It was then, that his life would change once again.